The reckless and the brave
by Shaera Lynn
Summary: She may be the daughter of Princess General Leia Organa and Han Solo, but that in no way, shape or form, qualifies her to help save the universe from a deranged twat of a brother. She'd much rather go on her merry way and forget this ever happened, but, not if Poe Bloody Dameron has anything to say about it. He will drag her into the fray kicking and screaming if he has to.
1. The Reckless

**Heya, please review!**

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 **Chapter 1**

Aedin Organa-Solo is a cocky, manipulative bitch.

Sure, she has at her disposal- a formidable arsenal boasting some of the very latest in weapons innovations (All thanks in no small part to her dad, universes greatest smuggler and all); a reputation nearly rivaling that of Boba Fett, which is pants-shittingly scary in the fact that it is completely and wholly deserved; and honed instincts rigorously cultivated through years of growing up and training surrounded by the very best that the resistance has to offer but... deep down, she knows that without a doubt, her single greatest strength is the fact that she really is a cocky, manipulative bitch.

Although, and she'd probably never admit this _out loud_ , in her grander moments (Of which she's _apparently_ had far too few of lately), she might be able to accurately strike the bitch part from the epithet. It is not, after all, the key component to her success (Although, there has been more than one case in which it has been rather key to her survival) and her reputation to the contrary, she actually has no real desire to be one. She doesn't mind it, of course. She's simply not married to the idea.

Then, well, then there is her cockiness. Ah yes, the blame for _that_ particular trait of her _sparkling_ personality can be placed squarely on her fathers shoulders.

After all, Han Solo's DNA flows through her veins. It goes without saying.

But her manipulative streak? The thing she actively _seeks_ , actively _hones_? The thing that makes her such an excellent leader to those fortunate enough to be on her side and what makes her an incredible liability to those unfortunate enough to find themselves anywhere else?

 _That_ , is all Princess General Leia Organa.

Truly, if her mother hadn't been constantly berating her on her choice of profession, she might actually have been proud at how well her training (And genes) has been paying off.

But, even with the blood of the top Resistances leaders flowing through her veins, she's always just understood how people work. Or maybe it's because of said blood that she's been able to do it so easily without being 'force sensitive' like her special little twat of a brother? Honestly, it's not that difficult to study a person and get to know them. To get to understand their motivations, their fears, their insecurities and their pain. You just simply have to be quiet, patient, observant.

Something Ben Solo-Organa has never been able to manage.

Of course, the bitch part just comes into play because unlike the vast majority of people, when she needs to set those fears and insecurities and pain aside, she has no real problem doing so. Well... not _anymore_ , anyway.

There is a line, in one of her mothers _many_ psych evals on her, about her impressive ability to compartmentalize.

She's guessing that the psychologist hadn't been talking about her impressive ability to dress an amputation in the field in under thirty seconds.

Or perhaps she had been?

Because, honestly, when it comes right down to it, what exactly is the difference between a useless limb and a niggling feeling of self-doubt when you are under fire? Nothing, really. Except maybe the effectiveness of a good painkiller.

Not that she always feels the need to compartmentalize, of course. Sometimes it happens without her realizing it. But more often than not, the useful emotions (Well, useful to the current situation) she tends to let fly.

That, and sometimes she actually really likes it. She likes people. One doesn't get good at reading people by hating them. Except if you're like her brother, who'll just use his dark side force powers to torture what ever he needs to know out of you.

Family. Ya know?

But, there are some emotions that generally aren't helpful... and _those_ , she can field dress faster than she can a shattered limb with white, deadly sharp bone sticking out of meat. Five seconds tops. Done. Hemorrhaging stopped before anyone even knows she'd lost a limb.

Make it ten.

The temple had taken her ten.

Still, not bad. Not exactly _good_ , either though. Poe had seen the deluge of blood that time. Chewy had smelled it on the air, but of course hadn't seen the glistening pools himself. But, Aedin had managed to bandage it up with ease and if a shaking hand had made it take twice as long, well, it had still been bandaged up tightly and perfunctorily set aside.

Compartmentalization. What a neat and useful little personality flaw.

She stands, silent and sure and still, at the entrance to the Coryscant underworld. Her arms are folded under her chest as she leans against a wall, her eyes survey the passers-by almost clinically. Under her leather jacket her blasters are strapped almost comfortingly to her sides, with her bladed weapons fitted snuggle against her thighs.

Her team are all scattered behind her. She doesn't have to turn around to know exactly what each of them is currently occupying themselves with.

T'Rani is pacing behind her like a caged animal, sleek and wild, her movements somehow simultaneously agitated with pent-up energy and smoothly predatory with dangerous, fluid grace. She hadn't wanted to come with... but out of all of them, she perhaps understands why it is so important that she does anyway.

Garik is seated on the steps to her eight, just out of her line of sight. He had been cleaning his weapon a minute ago, the unmistakable scent of blaster oil, familiar and comforting, still lingers in the air. He hadn't questioned the order to join her, out of everyone in the group, he's the only one who's been with her since the beginning. He knows. He doesn't _say_. But he knows.

Dana is pacing as well, though unlike T'Rani, does so with the unhurried, deliberate gait of a woman who has resigned herself to her current circumstance and is fully occupied with her own thoughts, clinical and cool though they might be. Aedin can feel a deliberate, icy blue gaze slide speculatively over her once in a while. She used to be with the Empire until she decided that life sucked and opted to hop onto Aedin ship first chance she got and piloted it from then on out. She has the most reason to be nervous, after all, she might trust their crew, but she trusts the rest of the resistance about as far as she can throw them.

Aedin pays them little mind.

He's on his way.

She knows how he works. She understands his motivations. His fears. Insecurities. She understands his pain.

More than that, her mother has given him an order. He won't disobey.

He's on his way.


	2. The Brave

**Hey guys! Hope everyone is having a great holiday?**

 **I've been super lazy to write after finishing with exams but after finally getting a chance to watch The Last Jedi (Which was amazing) last night, I've been motivated to continue writing this story. Please leave a review and let me know what you think of the super short, filler chapter.**

 **I tried writing from Poe's POV, please let me know what you guys think of my attempt?**

 **Also, thanks for the reviews and PM's, I appreciate all of them and am super flattered :) You guys are amazing.**

 **Anywhore, enough from me, on with the story!**

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 **Chapter 2**

Aedin Organa-Solo is a cocky, manipulative bitch.

Thanks in no small part to her family, that is. Skywalkers and Solo's, whoever thought that would be a good mix, clearly had no idea of what they would be releasing on the galaxy. After all, the mixture of Vader and best smuggler in the galaxy blood, has resulted in two of the most dangerous human beings that anyone has ever known.

Back when he first met Aedin, he'd spent months alternating between having a juvenile crush on her and an abject fear that she might, if she ever turned dark side, actually be capable of destroying the universe as they know it and it is only by the grace of the Goddess, that unlike Ben, she is on the non-universe-destroying side of things.

She is beautiful. A power undiminished by the fact that she knows it and makes no more and no less use of it than she does her agility and strength.

She is experienced. A set of carefully hone skills augmenting her already ferociously good skills.

And despite the fact that she is the daughter of Generals Organa and Solo, he knows without a doubt, that her two most dangerous characteristics are the fact that, at the very core of it all, she really is a cocky, manipulative bitch.

In his grander moments (Of which he's had _far_ too few of lately), he might actually be able to accurately strike the 'bitch' part from the epithet. Aedin is a lot of things, but only occasionally is she actually a bitch.

But it's definitely not one of her defining characteristics; it's more like a flavor, if anything; and to reduce her to simply a bitch is to ignore the more nuanced book that is her shuttered features, her so controlled body language ,the often stark oscillations undulating just below the surface.

But, she definitely is manipulative. It is a function of her inherent, seemingly effortless ability to understand people... to understand how they work, to understand what motivates them, what scares them and what hurts them.

She's never needed to be force sensitive to be good at reading people.

It's scary actually.

It's also what had drawn him to her in the first place. No one has that kind of ability if they didn't actually like people.

And she likes him.

He likes her too.

Loves her, even.

Despite the fact that she is a cocky, manipulative bitch.

Or maybe because she is?

There is a line, in one of his many psych evals, about his impressive level of awareness.

He's guessing the psychologist hadn't been talking about his ability to calculate and predict maneuvers before the enemy even knows it themselves? The thing that makes him such a brilliant pilot? The best that the resistance has?

Or maybe he had?

Because when it comes right down to it, what is the actual difference between a preemptive counter strike and a niggling feeling of self-doubt when you're under fire?

Nothing, honestly.

For years, he had been so focused on nothing but being the best damn pilot in the history of the resistance.

But that changed when they, quiet literally, stumbled into one another.

Because suddenly, he found his world shift, change to not _just_ focus on being the best. Because now, the resistance wasn't the only important thing in his life anymore.

Because he broke his number one rule.

He let her in.

And he let her see _exactly_ just how much damage that had done to him.

He had been by her side at the temple. He vowed to never leave her, and he never did, _she_ did however.

She made that choice for him.

And for what?

Perhaps, he'll never know.

Perhaps its best if he never does.

On the order of her mother, he reached out to her again. To get her back to her family, to him, to where she belongs.

Not that he would ever admit this out loud- He had held his breath waiting for a reply he was almost certain would never come... but then:

 _Coryscant. Entrance to the Underworld. 2100 hours._

After his eyes scanned through the message, he'd once again come to the conclusion that she is definitely manipulative.

She knows him well enough to know that he'd been waiting for her response.

She also knows that, as an order from her mother, he most certainly wouldn't be able to ignore it.

She knows him.

It would be almost incredibly infuriating if it didn't fill him with so much hope. Because maybe she isn't out of his reach just yet.

After all, he is nothing if not aware. Her message had been impersonal enough to imply personal ties, brusque enough to imply desperation, vague enough to imply a shared enemy. She had sent it as a direct response to his own outreach as if it were a reply to it; but he is suspecting it is not... at least not a direct one.

She's trying her best to distance herself from him... from _them_. And somehow, maybe, for now this impersonal approach might be better.

Easier, perhaps.

Taking the steps down two at a time, he tugs at the edges of his favorite leather jacket, where his sidearm is strapped securely. Just in reach if it turns out necessary to use it.

She's waiting.

He knows how she works. He might not understand her motivations or her fears or her insecurities or even her pain. Once, maybe. Not now. But, he knows how she works.

She's waiting.

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 **Please let me know what you think? I'm currently working on Chapter 3 and it will _hopefully_ be up by Monday :)**


	3. Close encounters of the T'Rani kind

**Chapter 3**

She stares at him.

She hasn't moved a muscle save for the slight spasm of her diaphragm that resulted in a sharp inhale she hasn't yet managed to release. For all of the speeches she had rehearsed in her head. All the epic apologies she wanted to make. Nothing. Her tongue feels like it has swollen to twice its size, sitting uncomfortably in her mouth.

He stares back at her.

He'd stopped in his tracks as soon as he turned the corner and it hadn't only been because she saw it fit to bring a remarkably well-armed posse with her.

" _That?!_ "

T'Rani's derisive voice brakes through Aedin's reverie and, if the sudden, almost imperceptible shake of his head is any indications, Poe's as well.

She appears at Aedin's elbow. The human can almost feel the irritation roll off of the Twi'lek in waves, can practically taste the agitation in the air. The effect doesn't lessen as the she moves forward, eyes narrowing at the newcomer, pacing back and forth in front of Aedin with the same sort of impatient grace of a Nexu trapped in a too-small cage.

Her voice, when she speaks, is part derision, part mockery, and... mostly simple disbelief. Disbelief that this is what she's been waiting for. Disbelief that Aedin had gotten her riled up enough to be worried and all for _this_. Disbelief that Aedin herself would ever overestimate risk so badly, or misdiagnose greatness so lightly, " _That's what we came to see?_ "

"Commander Dameron," Aedin says evenly after swallowing against the annoyingly useless apendage in her mouth, still unmoving from her position against the wall. By now, the lack of movement on her part is purely voluntary. She keeps her stance ostensibly relaxed, mostly to ensure that Garik and Dana, well-trained though they are, don't find themselves reacting to T'Rani's increasing agitation. T'Rani has an estimable skill for escalation. She nods to each of her team in turn, "T'Rani. Dana. And you remember Garik?"

She watches as Poe's dark eyes flicker quickly and expertly over each of her team as she introduces them. The cool, methodical assessment reminding her why he'd been the one she'd always wanted on her six.

She had notice him tense when T'Rani spoke. Every instinct telling him to reach for her weapon. Yet, the fact that he keeps his pose relaxed, reminding her how he'd been the only one she'd allowed on her twelve.

T'Rani stares at her, brown eyes laced with both simmering suspicion and utter disbelief, "You're serious," she says after a long moment, the disbelief forcing a razor sharp edge to her voice. She whips her head back around to Poe, eyes narrowing at the clothes that mimics her Captains, the strong jawline, the intense blue eyes... then back at Aedin. She barks out a laugh that is all frustration and no humor, "Fuck, you brought me down here for a _pussy_?"

In the midst of T'Rani's pacing and outburst, a thought occurs to Aedin. One she can slap herself for not noticing earlier. She is, after all, supposed to know her team better than this. Supposed to pay attention to their sometimes so obvious emotions more clearly. But she let her guard down. Poe is here and she let him affect her senses more than she should have. She let her guard down and didn't notice the fact that she may have actually managed to scare T'Rani.

Not that she would ever admit that.

And her frustration and outburst now is simply the only manifestations that she can manage in lieu of relief. And it is true, Commander Poe Dameron might not look all that dangerous. He hardly ever does. Not until star fighters get blown into atmo anyway.

Aedin doesn't have the heart to break it to T'Rani that for all her raw strength, even she might be just a little bit out of her league... especially if she is letting her guard down... What strength she has and violently releases through sheer talent and brute force alone, Poe Dameron has carefully and methodically cultivated through years of rigorous training under her mother's command.

But, hey, on the positive side, if T'Rani isn't feeling all that threatened- and she clearly isn't- then maybe there is a significant decrease in the likelihood of somehow losing some or other appendage tonight.

She almost, _almost_ manages a sigh of relief, until... "I believe there is a better selection of those on Naboo." Poe quips with mild humor. He both looks and sounds mild. Not uninterested but simply... mild. His stance was relatively relaxed though there is an unmistakable alertness in his gaze that speaks volumes on just how high his senses are actually running.

His hands hang loose at his sides... well, almost loose at his sides, rather. The left is loose, yes, relaxed even. But the right has the tiniest hint of tension in it, the elbow just slightly bit bent. Aedin would recognize that move anywhere. Her father's signature move. Poe copied him, idolized him to an extent and soaked up all the knowledge and tips that the best smuggler in the galaxy had to offer.

Aedin raises a slight eyebrow at him pointedly.

He looks surprised for a moment – just a moment, no longer- and a hint of that self-deprecating smile of his flashes across his face, It's gone faster than the surprise, so fast, in fact, that Aedin can't entirely be sure that she had in fact seen it.

Brilliantly awful time to start hallucinating.

Brilliantly awful time to start hallucinating about _that_.

"This is the best that the big bad Resistance has to offer?" T'Rani snorts, waving a dismissive hand at Poe, "Ya know what, perhaps I would be better off handing myself over to Kylo Ren himself."

"Good thing I'm not here for you then." This makes T'Rani stop and scowl at Poe over her shoulder, "I'm here for your Captain."

T'Rani's jaw clenches so hard, Aedin swears she can almost hear her teeth scrape together before she whirls around and jabs a finger at him, hissing, "The hell you are."

T'Rani is fast. Before her eyes even see the tattoos on T'Rani's skin undulate with the movement of the muscles below, the woman clenches her fist and aims a blow at Poe's head.

Which he dodges with a duck and a roll to the side.

She hears Dana sigh, "Hell." From somewhere behind her and knows the woman has her own weapons out, aiming it at the crouching Commander, just as she hears Garek's booted feet hit the floor and the safety come off his blaster.

Before she can react any further to the situation unfolding in front of her, Poe is back on his feet, blaster pointing at T'Rani's head.

The next blow that T'Rani was aiming comes to a stop.

They stare at each other and Aedin takes this moment to step forward and grab T'Rani's arm, back turning to press against Poe's chest as she forces her way between the two warriors. Truthfully, it's like wrapping her hand around a metal pipe and trying to force it the other way- but she doesn't let go.

"Stand down," She says quietly. She shoots a look at Poe. "Both of you." She looks at the rest of her team. "All of you."

There is a long, tense moment where no one moves, where nothing changes, where Poe and T'Rani stare at one another without blinking, where the tip of Garek's blaster didn't even so much as quiver, where the shimmering blades of Dana's daggers don't move from their target of Poe's throat.. and it is all long enough for Aedin to consider the very real possibility that she might have to start shooting.

But finally, out of all of them, right when the tension is high enough that someone, probably T'Rani, is going to break... Poe stands down. Safety on his blaster clicking on as he slides it back in its holder before running a hand through his disheveled hair.

Aedin hears the safety reset on Garek's weapon and the familiar sheeting of Dana's weapon... and feels the unmistakable tightening of muscles, in the steel like arm she still holds onto.

"T'Rani." She says warningly.

"Shit." T'Rani snaps... then abruptly shakes off Aedin's hand and stalks back to the far wall.

Well. This is nice. Friends all around and thankfully, no structural damage.

She turns back to look at Poe, to find his dark eyes on her, expression inscrutable.

"So, I'm here Dameron," She says, turning her open palms to him, "You said you wanted to meet... and I'm here." She gazes at him evenly, "Now, what the _hell_ do you want?"


End file.
